


Kodak Moments

by HermioneJeanWayne



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cameras, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Snacks & Snack Food, Snarky Jarvis, Snarky Tony, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Feels, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-06 07:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneJeanWayne/pseuds/HermioneJeanWayne
Summary: Steve likes taking pictures. He especially likes taking pictures of Tony, who doesn’t mind one tiny bit. Not at all. In fact, he wouldn’t mind returning the favor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to DramioneConvert, who is still patiently waiting on the fic I was actually supposed to write instead of this one. I promise I'm getting that cattery fic to you one day! ;-)

Outside the bodega, Iron Man tapped his foot impatiently, ignoring the bemused stares from passersby and the occasional snapping of a tourist's camera. 

Inside the suit, Tony Stark mindlessly scrolled through the schematics for several different projects, not really focusing on any of them. Rather, every one of his 250-plus IQ points was honed in on one question: _What in the hell was taking Steve so long?_

They'd just come from yet another supervillain battle — the third this week — and Tony was tired, annoyed and covered with dirt and grime. After the skirmish, he and Steve had stayed behind to talk a little shop with Agent Coulson, whose baby agents were picking through the remains of the scene. As per usual, Tony had been Steve's ride back to Avengers Tower, and when Captain Metabolism had started whining mid-flight about "just really needing some water, and maybe some snacks," Tony couldn't say no.

Tony could never say no to Steve. It was becoming a real pain in his ass.

And that was why he was currently standing outside this slightly seedy convenience store, tapping his foot and — _whoops_ — actually grinding the concrete into dust, _should probably stop that_. Finally, he threw up his hands ( _click_ , went another one of those annoying-as-hell iPhones, he was going to buy Apple and recall all those damn phones and let Clint use them as target practice) and stalked inside the store.

"Cap? Cappity Cap? Where are you?"

Steve's head popped up in a distant corner, an unfairly adorable look of surprise on his face. Steve had removed his cowl, but he still had some streaks of dirt on his face. If Tony squinted, the dirt almost looked like oil streaks, which brought to mind one of his more imaginative fantasies involving Steve, some car repairs and the hood of a Bugatti Veyron Supersport— and, well, it was a good thing he was in a metal suit right now. A little uncomfortable, but still a good thing.

"Tony! Come look at this!"

_Huh_. Steve sounded a little too excited to have found a bottle of water and some snacks. _Maybe he had finally discovered Cool Ranch Doritos?_

Tony strolled over to Steve, grabbing some plain M&Ms along the way. 

"OK, Cap, what's blowing your mind this time? Did you stumble upon Twinkies? 'Cause I gotta tell you, those taste amazing but in the end are a really bad decision— _what are those_?”

In Steve's enormous hands, he was cradling several small cardboard boxes, which looked suspiciously like—

"Tony! Amir here tells me these nifty little things are disposable cameras! All I have to do is click this button and it takes a picture — none of that _framing_ and _adjusting_ stuff I have to learn to do with the Nikon. This is _genius_!”

Amir gave a feeble smile and a small wave. Tony inclined his head, twisting his lips. 

_Genius, Steve? Really? Ugh. Those things will take crappy, out-of-focus photos. And then you have to take the cameras to be developed, which nobody’s done in about 17 years._

The thing is, though, Tony knew that even though Steve had existed in this time for a while, he was still sometimes given to bouts of stupefied amazement over some of the conveniences of the future. (Tony still can’t think of the time Clint introduced Steve to QVC without cringing. Thank God they were able to return most of the crap Steve ordered, although Tony did secretly keep the Snuggie. No one has to know.)

Looking at Steve’s pleased smile, Tony sighed internally. _Yep, this is definitely becoming a pain in my ass._

“We’ll take all of these you have, Amir,” Tony said, turning to the shop owner. Ten minutes later, Captain America and Iron Man were airborne again, this time towing several plastic bags packed with Kodak disposable cameras. Not surprisingly, Amir was eager to empty out his inventory — Tony was fairly sure he saw him blowing dust off a package of them stowed behind the counter. 

Once they landed atop Avengers Tower, Steve turned to Tony, still with that pleased puppy-dog smile.

“Thanks again, Tony. I really appreciate it, and I’m happy to pay you back.”

Tony flicked his hand through the air as if to bat away Steve’s offer to pay. 

“Don’t worry about it, Cap. I just gotta warn you, though, don’t be surprised if you don’t end up with the best photos when you use those.”

Looking up, he realized Steve’s smile had gone just a little forlorn, a little self-deprecating. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, almost seeming embarrassed. 

“Yeah, I figured. I mean, obviously those don’t hold a candle to the Nikon you gave me. But they’re something simple I can use to take pictures of the people and places around me. I love to draw, but sketching takes time. Sometimes I just want to capture an image on something a little more permanent than my memory. And even when I sketch, sometimes I can’t get all the details exactly right — a smile, a dimple, the way her hair fell into her eyes…”

Tony swallowed, a little painfully. “Peggy, you mean?”

“What? Oh, no. Not Peggy,” Steve says with a small chuckle. “No, I was thinking about my Ma. I’ve always wished I had a photo of her, but family photographs were expensive back then, and we barely had enough money to keep food in our bellies and a roof over our heads.”

Tony just nodded and mentally filed that away to consider later. 

After a couple minutes of companionable silence, Steve said, “Well, I’m going to go get cleaned up. Thanks again for all of these, Tony. I’ll see you later.”

After Steve strode away, Tony made his way down to his workshop. He stepped out of the suit and changed into a comfortable tank and black jeans, thinking all the while. 

“JARVIS, start an image search across all databases, including newspapers and historical archives. Looking for any photos of Sarah Rogers.”

“Would that be Captain Rogers’ mother, sir?” JARVIS intoned.

“Exactamundo, J. Let’s see what you can come up with,” said Tony, picking up a wrench. “Now, give me the ‘AC/DC Live’ album, and crank it to 11.”

****

Back in his room, Steve stepped out of the shower, toweled off and pulled on his favorite stretchy shirt and jogging pants. Thoughtfully, he surveyed the Nikon D5 Tony had given him. 

Well, really, it was the Nikon D5 Tony had picked up off the workshop floor and carelessly tossed to him, saying, “Hey, Cap. I remembered you saying you were interested in photography, and I picked this up for you, kind of a ‘Hey, welcome to the Tony Stark Fan Club’ gift.” He’d winked, and Steve had actually bobbled the camera. 

Later that day, when he got back to his room, he looked up its cost and nearly gagged when he saw the price tag. When he was from, apartments sometimes sold for less than that. He gingerly placed the camera on a (sturdy) shelf and never touched it again. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it without knowing exactly how to use it, and he never had the time to learn. 

Steve’s gaze swiveled from the Nikon to the bags of disposable cameras, and he grinned. The Nikon was too much, but a camera that cost less than $10? That, he could handle. 

He slipped one Kodak into his pocket and, whistling a jaunty tune, headed to the elevator. _Time to capture some memories._ And if those memories included a certain goateed smartass genius, then all the better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed it so far — kudos and comments always appreciated! This work is complete, and I expect chapters to go up pretty quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So many photo opportunities, and Steve is here for all of them.

Over the next few weeks, the Avengers got used to hearing a telltale _click_. Surprisingly, though, no one seemed to mind, a fact that rankled Tony.

"See? I keep telling you! Everyone lets you get away with anything! If I was just taking random photos of Nat painting her nails or Bruce eating a sandwich or Clint setting fire to the microwave yet again, I'd get death threats from each one of them! Well, maybe not Bruce. He's a pacifist. But I'd get a strongly worded lecture, at the very least!"

Tony's rant was interrupted by that familiar _click_ , and he turned disbelievingly toward Steve.

"What? You looked cute," Steve teased, smiling even wider when he caught Tony's faint blush. 

Tony turned away, seemingly in disgust but really so Steve couldn't see the pleased quirk to his lips. (Seriously, he was so screwed.)

He had to admit, though, Steve probably had at least a few great shots on those hunks-o-junk. He let his mind wander to some of the “photo opportunities” of which Steve had been taking advantage. 

There was the team dinner-and-a-movie night when Steve demanded that everybody gather for a team photo, and then looked crestfallen when he belatedly realized that meant he couldn’t be in the photo too. 

Tony had heroically resisted the urge to remind him that, among its many astonishing features that made it one of the best cameras in the world, the Nikon actually had a timer. 

Fortunately, Agent Coulson strolled in just as Clint was suggesting that he might be able to hit the Kodak’s button with a well-aimed Nerf arrow. After Coulson took the photos, Steve thanked him, then met the agent’s eye with a rueful look. 

“I’m sorry you’re not in the photos, Agent Coulson — obviously, you’re as much a part of this team as anyone else. Would it be OK if I asked Tony to take a photo of us?”

Coulson’s eyes widened, and Tony had to chuckle at how quickly the man thrust the camera in his direction. Coulson stood next to Steve, then realized Clint was moving to stand on Steve’s other side. 

"Stand down, Barton,” Coulson muttered, giving Clint some major stink eye. 

Tony couldn’t help it — he had to take the picture twice because he was laughing too hard. 

****

There was also the time when Tony was on the couch mainlining coffee and watching Steve, who was working his way through his typical five bowls of cereal while watching Clint attempt to cook eggs. 

While munching bowl No. 1, Steve (and Tony) could tell things were careening toward disaster when Clint proved incapable of breaking eggs without shattering their shells into minuscule pieces. After half-heartedly trying to fish the pieces out, Clint announced that the shells "were, like, super high in protein and omega-3" and dumped the entire mess into a saucepan. Steve's eyebrows inched higher as he placidly poured out another helping of Honey Nut Cheerios.

Clint cheerfully turned the gas burner to high. Steve took a camera out of his pocket and placed it on the table. 

Clint noticed and singsonged, "Well, Cap, if you wanted a pic of the prettiest person in the whole house, you only had to ask!" while making his best duckface. Wordlessly, Steve took the photo, making sure to capture the smoke beginning to artfully billow over Clint's head.

Clint sniffed the air — “Hey, do you guys smell something?” — and turned just as the smoke plume really began to thicken. Clint grabbed the sizzling pan with his bare hand, let out a banshee shriek and dropped the pan, spilling eggs all over the range. 

The eggs immediately burst into flame. Steve continued to click away. Tony was just opening his mouth to ask JARVIS to turn on the sprinklers when Bruce walked into the room. He took one look at the situation and then, in a practiced movement, reached under the couch, slid out a fire extinguisher and began to spray the range as well as Clint. 

_Click_ , went the camera. 

Bruce calmly turned off the gas, grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet and took the Honey Nut Cheerios from Steve, who had just poured himself more.

“Milk’s in the fridge,” Steve said. Clint trudged out of the kitchen, presumably to find a shower, and Tony took another long pull from his coffee mug. 

_Just another morning in paradise_ , Tony thought. “JARVIS, can we get a cleaning crew in here sometime this morning, please?”

****

However, Tony’s favorite photo ops were the ones that were just him and Steve. He liked the idea that there was tangible evidence of this strange but essential friendship between them. 

(Little did he know that there was much, much more of this tangible evidence than he realized.)

One day, Tony and Steve were hanging out in the workshop, sharing some pizza and talking about improvements Tony wanted to make for the team’s equipment. 

“Like Nat’s widow bites. They’re good, but they can be better,” Tony said. “I’d like to add the capability for her to change the voltage on the bites — so hopefully she would typically use them to knock out and disarm the bad guys, but in more extreme circumstances, she can use them if she has to take someone out, y’know, permanently. Or if you have someone who just doesn’t respond to the typical voltage, the heightened charge might be enough to stun him or her and allow Nat to get away.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully while inhaling a slice of pepperoni and pork sausage. 

“That’d be smart,” he said. “But it’d have to be something she could do while actually in combat — maybe a voice command, or something keyed to a specific hand movement?”

Tony froze. “That’s … actually really smart, Cap. Maybe both. Adding more bulk wouldn’t be the way to go. I’ll have to do more testing— no, wait, Dum-E, what are you doing?”

The bot whirred away with a pizza box, making straight for the trash can in the far corner. 

“Dum-E! No! That box actually still has pizza in it! Hawaiian — my favorite!” Tony stood up and started chasing the robot. Steve giggled, then grabbed a camera out of his pocket and took a shot of Tony scolding a sadly beeping Dum-E.  

“What? No! If you’re going to take a picture of us, Rogers, at least take one that makes me look like a doting dad,” Tony said. 

“Fine, then. Get Dum-E and U and come sit down. I’ll get a family photo,” Steve snarked. 

True to his suggestion, Tony brought the bots over, sat between them and put his arms around them. 

“That one’s a keeper,” Steve said, smiling as he pressed the button. 

_Wait until Tony sees Dum-E trying to make bunny ears over his head_ , he thought. _…I probably should not find this as charming as I do. I’m probably in a lot of trouble here. I probably should stop filling these cameras up with photos of Tony. I’m probably not actually going to do that. Oh well._

****

Several weeks later, Tony was in the workshop fiddling with the widow bites when JARVIS got his attention. 

“Sir, I believe I have located three possible photos of Sarah Rogers. They appear to be of different women, but one in particular has a distinct similarity to Captain Rogers. Would you like to peruse those now?”

“Yes! Bring them up for me to see now, J,” Tony said, his heart picking up speed. 

Three images flicked up in midair for Tony to look at. The first two were of dark-haired women, and Tony dismissed those immediately. The third, however, was of a fair-haired lady dressed in a nurse’s uniform, tending to a patient with a determined look on her face. 

Tony had seen that precise expression on Steve’s face before, and knew he was looking at the face of Sarah Rogers — the woman who had given birth to Captain America. 

“This photo is from the June 29, 1936 issue of the New York Times,” JARVIS intoned. “Mrs. Rogers was working in a tuberculosis ward. She died of the disease later that year, according to SHIELD files.”

Tony sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had already known what happened to Steve’s mom — Steve had told him months ago, in one of those conversations where Tony could physically _feel_ them getting closer — but actually seeing her face, seeing its similarity to Steve’s, brought home the tragedy of her death in a far more visceral way. Like her son, Sarah Rogers had believed in helping others, even when it was to her own detriment. 

_Far too noble, the both of them_ , Tony thought. 

Tony reached out with a gentle finger and traced the lines of Sarah’s face, much as he’d imagined tracing Steve’s. _Thank you for him. I’m trying to take care of him for you. It’s not easy, but I’m trying._

Clearing his throat, Tony swiped the photo away. 

“It’s perfect, J. Better than I could have hoped,” Tony said. “Can we get an original copy? I know it’s the Times archives, not for sale, blah blah blah, but see if they’ll sell us one anyway. Whatever the cost, it’s fine. Arrange for it to be framed, please. I’d like the frame to be maple. It grows throughout New York, and it’s one of the strongest woods you can buy — a good fit for the Rogers family, don’t you think?”

“I agree completely, sir. That was a poetic thing to say. I’ll make sure no one else hears a word of this,” JARVIS said drolly. 

“‘Preciate ya, J,” Tony replied. “Oh, I just had a thought. Steve’s got to have an enormous pile of those disposable cameras in his room or something, right? Has he had any of those developed?”

“No, Captain Rogers has not had the time or opportunity to have the photos developed. The used cameras are currently in a backpack in his room.”

“Grab those. We’ll get those developed for him. Double the surprise! He’ll love it. Maybe I’ll even get a few of those framed for him too,” Tony mused. “Send them to that one-hour place down the street.”

“As you wish, sir,” JARVIS said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments so far! Keep 'em coming ;-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which photos are seen, realizations are made, and Steve is ... Steve.

“Sir? The photos Captain Rogers took have been developed and are in the workshop,” JARVIS said later that evening, when Tony was heating up leftover Chinese in the kitchen. All the other Avengers were out with the exception of Bruce, who was working in his own lab. 

“Awesome, J. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll go check them out in just a few minutes. What about the New York Times?”

“After some tense negotiations, they did agree to sell you one of their remaining copies of the issue with Sarah Rogers’ photo,” JARVIS said. “In related news, the Times’ lunchroom is now known as the Anthony Edward Stark Cafeteria.” 

“Mmmm, I don’t like the word ‘cafeteria.’ Can we just have them call it Stark’s Snack Bar? Better for branding,” Tony asked. 

“I’ll alert your legal team and see what they can do,” JARVIS said. “The newspaper with Mrs. Rogers’ photo is currently being fitted with a custom frame. It should be ready and delivered to the Tower tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Tony muttered around a mouthful of Mongolian beef. After he wiped his hands, he took the elevator down to the workshop, eyes immediately locking onto the envelopes stuffed full of photos on his desk. 

Sitting down, he eagerly opened the top envelope, pulling out a stack of photos that started with a few shots of Thor. There was Thor in training with Mjolnir, Thor laughing uproariously at something Clint said, Thor chivalrously helping a female SHIELD agent who had fallen during a battle. 

_No matter what, he looks like he belongs on the cover of a romance novel_ , Tony thought. _I think it’s the hair. And the biceps. And the outfit. Maybe just everything about him, to be honest._

Next were a few shots of Natasha, although Steve only managed to ever get small parts of her within the frame — the heel of a black boot here, the very tips of her hair there, an outstretched middle finger — _Whoops, guess Nat was feeling feisty that day._ Finally, Steve must have done some begging and pleading, because there was Nat’s face. She was trying to look stern and forbidding, but a twinkle in her eye and the slightest upward tilt of her lips betrayed her fondness for the photographer. 

_Figures. Thor might be Fabio, but Steve’s everybody’s wholesome, charming all-American boy_ , Tony thought ruefully. 

Then there was the “family” shot with Dum-E and U ( _Hey, who taught Dum-E about rabbit ears?_ ), the photos from Clint’s disastrous experiment with eggs and — Tony’s favorite so far — the now-iconic shot of Coulson giving an oblivious Clint a masterful stink eye. 

After putting the Coulson photo aside, the next face Tony saw was his own. He was gesticulating wildly, obviously talking a mile a minute — but what about? He wasn’t sure. He thought he might _just_ see the tips of Pepper’s hair, barely in the frame. _Who knows? I always gesticulate wildly. It’s one of my many charms._

_Next — wow, another photo of me. Huh._ This one was Tony smiling directly at the camera. That was his Steve smile, the genuine one. Tony was a master of smiling for the camera, but when Steve took this photo, Tony had been smiling for _him_. 

Tony flipped to the next shot, and it took him a minute to recognize himself. The photo was of a perspective he never saw — from an above angle. _Steve must have taken this during a movie night._ He was slumped on the couch, head lolling against Steve’s shoulder. His eyes were closed, and each of his eyelashes stood out against the line of his lids. His mouth was relaxed, and the worry lines in his forehead smoothed into nonexistence. The bottom half of Steve’s face was visible in the top corner of the photo, and Tony could make out a small, affectionate smile. It made him feel a little funny. 

_These pictures … the ones of me are a little different. Not quite candids. It’s almost like Steve took those with his artist’s eye._

Tony continued to flip through the photos, and while there were several more of the Avengers — including one hilarious one where Clint had somehow managed to get ahold of Fury’s eye patch and was modeling it — most of the remaining shots were of him. Either just of Tony, or they were of Tony and his teammates but the focus was obviously on Tony. And most of them had been taken with more care. Tony could tell that Steve had taken the time to compose the photos and wait for just the right moment before shooting. 

Suspicions mounting, Tony finally turned to the last two photos in the final envelope. Steve’s blushing face looked surprised; then, in the second photo, Steve’s expression lit up the frame. _Hey, I remember these from the other day!_

Steve had been clicking away all day, and Tony had finally grabbed the camera out of his pocket — hence the blush — and turned it around on Steve. 

“How does it feel to be on the other side, Annie Leibovitz?”

Steve had looked a little confused at that reference, but had given Tony a gorgeous grin. Now, given time to really savor the smile, Tony realized that it wasn’t Steve’s typical varsity-quarterback-and-prom-king beam. No, this expression was more private, more intentional. This wasn’t a smile meant for everybody; this was a smile Steve had meant for _Tony_. 

Realization washed over him, and he had to sit down heavily, one hand over his mouth and the other still clutching the photo of Steve. _Holy shit. I think Steve likes me. Like, he_ like-likes _me. Like Tony and Steve, sittin’ in a tree…_

Tony took another look at the photo, and slowly his face spread into a beatific grin. _Oh, thank fuck._

“JARVIS, what’s the ETA on that photo of Steve’s mom?”

“The framing shop will deliver it by 10 a.m. tomorrow, sir,” JARVIS replied. 

“Tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun’ll come out tomorrow … tomorrow’s just a day away,” Tony sang, giving himself a drumroll for good measure. 

“Masterfully done, sir,” JARVIS commented. “Have you considered trying for the role of Annie? Red is your color.”

“JARVIS, right now I’m too giddy to be annoyed at your snark,” Tony said flippantly. “Please let me know immediately when that photo arrives. I’ve got a captain to woo!”

 

****

Meanwhile, Steve was in his bedroom, cooling off after a hot shower. He needed it after a brisk ten-mile jog. As he picked up his water bottle, the top fell off the table, rolling behind his backpack on the floor. Placing the bottle back down, he picked up the backpack to look for the top — then promptly forgot all about the bottle top when he realized the backpack weighed less than it should. A lot less. 

He unzipped the pack and stared inside at … nothing. Wait. Where were all his Kodak cameras?

He looked around the room. No yellow-and-red boxes anywhere, other than a few waiting to be used on his bedside table. Then a horrible thought struck him. 

“JARVIS … is there a chance you know what happened to those cameras?”

There was a foreboding silence. 

“JARVIS. Did Tony do something with them?”

“I believe sir did you the favor of having the photos developed, Captain Rogers,” JARVIS replied. 

Steve groaned. “Has he looked at the photos yet?”

JARVIS’ fraught silence said all Steve needed to know. 

Steve groaned again and fell back onto the bed, covering his beet-red face with his hands. Any moron would know how he felt about Tony as soon as he or she looked through those images; and, of course, Tony Stark was most decidedly _not_ a moron. Sometimes he was oblivious, but it was impossible to be oblivious when faced with overwhelming proof. 

_OK. You are Steve Rogers. You are Captain America! You have faced down true evil and helped save the world on multiple occasions. You’re a best-selling Halloween costume, for goodness sakes! You can handle your crush finding out about your feelings._

“Yes, I can handle that,” Steve said, out loud. “But I’d have a hard time handling it if our friendship suffered because of Tony finding out how I feel. And now I’m talking to myself out loud. This is not helping. You know what? I’m going to go to sleep, and I will _handle_ this tomorrow.”

And with that, he turned out the light. But sleep didn’t come for some time yet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter! I know you're all waiting with bated breath. It'll be up within a couple days, most likely!! Comments and kudos lift my spirits!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is team-wide insanity, snark and a couple sexy moments. And lots of tooth-rotting fluff. Enjoy!
> 
> I have to say, the sweet comments I got spurred me to post this sooner than I originally planned. So now you know what commenting can do! :-)

Tony strolled into the common room at 10 the next morning to find his team in a state of absolute chaos. 

Clint and Thor were shouting at each other, Bruce was stress-chewing on the arm of his glasses and Natasha was grimly sharpening one of her knives. Steve was nowhere to be seen. 

Tony stood in stupefied silence for a few seconds. Finally, he snapped back to himself, deciding to abandon subtlety in favor of figuring out what the ever-loving hell was going on. 

On the table next to him was a bowl of fruit. He grabbed a clementine and lobbed it at Clint. For Thor, he selected a lovely Bartlett pear. After they were hit with twin _thuds_ to the face, the two Avengers turned to look at him with matching expressions of disbelieving annoyance. 

“Seriously, Tony? Cap’s fucking _missing_ , and you’re acting like a third grader,” Clint bit out. 

The panic began to ring in Tony’s ears. _I can’t have heard that correctly._

“What? What do you mean, Steve’s missing?”

This time, Thor interjected. “It’s true. No one has seen the good captain all morning. He has an unshakable routine, a fine habit for an unshakable man. Without fail, he’s brewing coffee at 5:30 a.m. He then sets out on his morning run. By 9 a.m., he’s back for breakfast. We almost always spar at 10. I’ve heard nothing from him this morning.”

“Sam sent me a message asking where Steve was. He wasn’t out for his usual run,” Natasha said, strapping her knife to her ankle. “And the coffee pot was cold when I came in at 6 a.m.”

“Somebody’s got Steve, and we’re going to figure out who. And then we’ll make them pay,” Clint said.

“OK, Liam Neeson. Let’s take the intensity down a notch — this isn’t ‘Taken,’” Tony said. “First, did anybody actually check his floor?”

An uncomfortable silence took hold of the room. Four Avengers all gave each other confused, then accusatory, looks; the remaining Avenger rolled his eyes and silently begged for strength. 

“I made the assumption that someone else checked up there, which was a bad call on my part,” Bruce said sheepishly. 

“OK, well, I’m going to head up there since I’m the only one of us who hasn’t _lost my mind_. If he’s not in his quarters and JARVIS can’t locate him, _then_ we can panic,” Tony said. 

“If he’s actually up there, I’m gonna be so pissed at him for making us freak out,” Clint huffed. “He’s _Captain America_ , for shit’s sake! If I can’t depend on Captain frickin’ America, then who the hell am I supposed to depend on?”

****

The elevator silently glided to a stop at Steve’s floor. 

“JARVIS, requesting permission to enter,” Tony said. Even though he thought the others were acting just a little crazy, he still held his breath. If Steve actually wasn’t there, he was going to feel like such a moron. Right after he finished panicking, that was. 

Fortunately, the doors slid open, and Tony was treated to the absolutely lovely sight of a sleep-tousled Steve sitting up on the couch, blue eyes blinking slowly. “…Tony? What time is it?”

“It’s our-teammates-are-absolutely-crazy-nuts time, Steve,” Tony said, crossing the room to sit next to Steve. 

“Say what?” Steve asked, shaking his head. “What happened this time?”

“Well, you should feel good because apparently everyone in this building loves you so much that once they think you’re missing in action, they all turn into Inigo Montoya, hell-bent on revenge.”

“I’m sure that is a fantastic pop culture reference that I’ll understand one day, but for now why don’t you pretend I somehow missed the past several decades and just tell me what is going on,” Steve said in a long-suffering manner for which Tony, frankly, didn’t see the need. 

“It’s 10:30 a.m. You’re usually up at the ass-crack of dawn. The rest of the team compared notes, realized no one had seen you, and proceeded to lose their shit,” Tony explained. “They were about to ride to the O.K. Corral at high noon when some _genius_ asked if anyone had checked your floor. And now here I am.”

Steve sighed. “Ugh. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anyone. I just didn’t fall asleep until really late. I normally wake myself up around 5, but not this time, I guess.”

“JARVIS, please let the team know Steve is just fine and that they can holster their pistols,” Tony called out. 

“Certainly, sir,” JARVIS replied. “I will, of course, leave out the part about putting away their weaponry.”

“My comedic flair is wasted on you, J,” Tony asserted, turning back to Steve, still tousled but looking more downcast by the second. 

“What’s with you, Cap? I’m not assuming the worst, but this certainly isn’t like you,” Tony said. 

Steve twisted his lips for a second, as if he was holding something back. Then his shoulders dropped, and he relented. 

“Tony … I know you’ve seen those pictures I took. JARVIS told me — well, he didn’t tell me — but I extrapolated from our conversation. If you’ve seen them, then you know … you know about how I feel about you. If you purposely didn’t want to mention it so you wouldn’t embarrass me, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I’d rather it just be out in the open so we can try to move on and continue our friendship,” he said. “Which is what I want. Your friendship above all else, I mean.”

He kept his eyes averted, obviously worried about Tony’s response. 

Instead of speaking, Tony simply gazed at Steve for a moment. God, he liked this man. He’d been attracted to men and women — too many of them to count. But he genuinely _liked_ Steve. He knew that with just a little encouragement — really, barely any at all — he’d _love_ Steve. Well, he might have already crossed that line. _I paid a king’s ransom for an old piece of paper and a few dots of ink, after all._

With that thought in mind, he stood up, straightened his jeans and reached a hand out to Steve. Blue eyes swung upward, and he must have been reassured by whatever he saw there, because he took Tony’s hand and used it to leverage himself up. 

Tony didn’t let go. 

As Steve cast a wondering glance at their joined fingers, Tony cleared his throat. “Speaking of photos, I have something to show you.”

****

Steve walked into the workshop, still holding Tony's hand. 

"I hope you don't mind. I kept some of the photos," Tony said, gesturing to a bulletin board on the wall.

Steve stepped closer, gazing at the board. There was the group shot of all the Avengers, and the shot with Coulson; there was Nat, and Thor, and Bruce. Of course, there was Clint. But most of all, there was Tony.

Steve smiled as he eyed the photo of Tony gesturing in all directions. The smile turned into a full-on beam when he moved to the family photo of Tony and the bots.

"Did you teach him about rabbit ears?" Tony asked, trying for an indignant tone and failing completely.

"I might have mentioned them. But I think you'll find that Clint completed his education there," Steve said, never taking his eyes off the board.

"Clint! Of course," Tony muttered before lapsing into silence again.

Steve’s eyes softened, looking at the photo of Tony sleeping. 

“These are always some of my favorite moments,” he said in a low voice, keeping his eyes on the photo as Tony turned to look at him. “I … I love you when you’re all over the place, all energy, like a blazing beam of light. I can’t look away from you when you’re like that. But I also really love you in those rare moments when you let your guard down, when you’re just Tony, not Iron Man or Mr. Stark. When you just sit next to me, and we talk — or we’re just quiet, because that’s nice too. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you because of _you_. You don’t have to offer me anything more than that.”

Tony smiled and caught Steve’s eyes. “I know. But that’s exactly what I want you to have.”

With his free hand, Tony gestured to the two photos in the center of the bulletin board — the one of Tony giving the camera his Steve smile, and the one of Steve grinning just for Tony. 

“Apparently these pictures show how we look when we focus on each other,” Tony said. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever looked so sappy in my entire life. If you can put a look like that on my face, then congratulations — you win the prize.”

“And you’re the prize?” Steve asked, smirking.

“First prize, baby,” Tony said, bumping Steve with his hip. 

Steve let go of Tony’s hand and lightly took hold of his side, sneaking his thumb under the hem of Tony’s shirt. He started to rub slow circles over the sensitive skin he found there, and Tony’s breath caught in his throat. 

He visibly swallowed, and Steve’s pupils dilated as he followed the motion of Tony’s throat. With more confidence, Steve grasped Tony’s other hip and turned him so the two were facing each other.

Blue eyes met brown, and Steve slowly, carefully, raised his finger to trace Tony’s lips.

At that, Tony finally found his voice.

“Wow, I just have to say that this is _insanely_ hot, like beyond my wildest fantasies hot, and I don’t want it to stop, but —“

“You have fantasies? Involving me?” Steve asked, his voice noticeably more gruff.

“Well, uh, duh. I mean, have you _seen_ you?” Tony asked. “I’d have had fantasies no matter what, but then you kinda turned out to be the greatest guy I’ve ever met, so— _mmmpf_!”

Tony’s meanderings were cut off by Steve bringing their lips together for a searing kiss. After a split second of disbelief, Tony registered his brain screaming at him to _JOIN IN, MORON_. He quickly proceeded to do just that, leading to a satisfied groan from Steve as they parted. 

Steve smiled — that special, just-for-Tony smile — and said, “I told you I like it when we’re quiet. Also, are you aware that your hand is planted very firmly on my ass?”

“Oh!” Tony exclaimed, giving a squeeze. _That’s about as rock hard as I figured._ “How did that get there?”

At that, Steve burst into laughter, dipping his head down to rest on Tony’s shoulder. Tony lightly rubbed his hand on the back of Steve’s neck. “Now, as I was saying, I don’t want this to stop, but I do have one more photo for you.”

With that, he broke away from their embrace and Steve’s quizzical look, over to a cardboard package leaning against the wall. He carried it to the worktable and beckoned Steve over. 

“This isn’t one you took. This is one that Tom Lucas from the New York Times took decades ago. In a Brooklyn hospital in 1936, to be exact,” he said. Steve’s eyes narrowed, then widened in shock. “Well, go on. Open it.”

Hesitantly, Steve tore the wrapping tape off and opened the box. He removed the packing materials to reveal the back of the framed photo. Picking it up, he turned it around carefully, and his jaw dropped. He gently placed it back down on the table and just stood there for a while, drinking in the sight of his mother. 

Again, Tony found himself uncharacteristically silent. A few minutes later, when Steve reached out to take his hand again, he was almost taken by surprise. 

“I wish my Ma was still alive to meet you. She’d have loved you,” Steve said, eyes crinkling. “She’d have thought you were just my type. An intelligent brunette with a mouth to match.”

Tony chuckled. 

“How did you find this, Tony? What are the chances? And it’s such a perfect photo. This was Ma in her element, taking care of other people with pride and determination — the same way she always took care of me.”

“You can thank JARVIS for that. He did some searching through some historical archives and databases, and finally found this in the New York Times archives,” Tony said. 

“Oh, I will definitely thank JARVIS. In fact, here goes: Thank you, JARVIS. This means more to me than I can express, and I will always appreciate your effort,” Steve said, eyes lifted to the ceiling. 

“No need to thank me, Captain Rogers. It was my pleasure,” JARVIS said. 

“Now, Tony, I think I need to thank _you_ ,” Steve said, intent clear in his eyes and voice. 

At that, Tony _squeaked_. Immediately, though, he recovered enough to say, “All right, JARVIS, thank you, yes, great job and _good night_! Also, please don’t let anybody get on the elevator after we get on. OK, thanks!”

JARVIS’ succinct reply was lost in the haze of Tony’s mind as Steve took hold of his face again, with incredible softness, and slotted their lips back together. The kiss was over far too quickly, and Tony, eyes still closed, let out a whine of complaint. Steve chuckled and whispered, “Thank you,” as he lightly brushed Tony’s forehead with a kiss. Next came Tony’s eyelids, the tip of his nose and his cheeks. Finally, there was a light peck on his lips, and one more whispered thanks. Tony opened his eyes. 

“That was sweet and romantic, Rogers. Very nice effort in wooing. I give you an A-plus. Consider me wooed,” Tony said. “Now what?”

Steve gave a shark’s grin and said, “Now, I’m tired of being quiet. I’d like for things to get a little loud.” 

****

Tony and Steve almost fell out of the elevator as it stopped at Steve’s floor. As a few lights came on, the two of them stumbled backward through the bedroom door toward Steve’s bed, shucking shirts and pants as they went. 

True to Tony’s request, JARVIS had ensured the elevator went straight from the workshop to Steve’s floor. Tony was pretty sure JARVIS had taken them there because it was closer than Tony’s penthouse suite, and he had absolutely no problem with that. 

As they collapsed onto the bed, Steve found a particularly interesting spot on Tony’s neck and began nuzzling it. As Tony’s eyes began to roll back in his head, he saw a flash of yellow-and-red on the table. Struck by inspiration, he grabbed for it. As soon as Steve’s mouth began to wander further south, Tony took his chance. 

_Click._  

Steve reared back, eyes huge and mouth wide. “What the … what the _hell_? Tony! We won’t be able to get that developed! Are you _crazy_?”

Another _click_. 

“We’re getting this developed even if I have to build a darkroom here in the Tower just for that!” Tony exclaimed. “These are some _real_ Kodak moments!”

At that, Steve’s eyes narrowed speculatively. “All right, if you say so. But I want copies.” With a smartass wink, he bent back down and resumed his previous activities. Tony’s head collapsed to the pillow as he let out a loud moan. But before he lost all brain function …

_Click._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, y'all! I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I've got a couple other Steve/Tony works, so if you're interested, check those out! Until next time!


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